


Oasis

by karl_jenkins



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy Feels, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, F/M, mildly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 22:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karl_jenkins/pseuds/karl_jenkins
Summary: Draco Malfoy didn't think his sixth year could be going much worse until Professor McGonagall told him he needed a transfiguration tutor.





	Oasis

“I have to say I'm surprised, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall said sternly, peering at Draco over the rims of her glasses, “After your Outstanding OWL results, I was expecting better from you.” Draco scowled and sunk lower in his chair. This was such a waste of time, he had much more important things that he should be working on at this moment. Every minute he had to be away from the Room of Requirement was another minute that his family were in danger. “Are you even listening?” Professor McGonagall snapped, pursing her lips so tightly that it looked painful. Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and pulled himself up in the chair, deciding he may as well _try_ to act like this mattered to him. “The first session will take place tomorrow evening at 6 o'clock, in this classroom. I expect you to be on time.”

“First session?” Draco replied. McGonagall’s look soured even further. “Thank you for the confirmation that you were _not_ listening, Mr. Malfoy. Your transfiguration work has been abysmal ever since the beginning of your sixth year and it seems that detention has stopped serving as a deterrent. So, you will have tutoring sessions and pull your grades up to at least an E level, or you will be removed from my transfiguration class.” Draco opened his mouth to protest but Professor McGonagall cut him off sharply, “No excuses. Tomorrow. 6 o'clock.” With that, she turned and swept from the room, leaving Draco sat alone in the transfiguration classroom.

“Cow,” Draco muttered, angrily kicking the chair in front of the desk he was sitting at. He couldn't afford to be wasting time on tutoring sessions and lectures from teachers, not now. He needed every moment possible to work in the Room of Requirement and his school work had suffered as a result. With that and Snape breathing down his neck at every spare moment he got, Draco felt like he’d rather go back into the forbidden forest with Hagrid’s stupid cowardly dog and get eaten by a werewolf than put up with much more of this.

Draco sulked as he made his way back down to the dungeons. He longed for the days when everything had been simple, when any problem he had at Hogwarts could be solved by an owl to his father. When the biggest problems he’d faced was being beaten academically by Granger and athletically by Potter.

* * *

The next evening at five minutes past six Draco entered the transfiguration classroom to see a girl he vaguely recognised but couldn't quite place. She was sat, head buried in a book, transfiguration books piled in front of her. As Draco tipped his own books down onto the desk and flopped unceremoniously into his seat, ready to launch into a whole practised speech about how he didn't need tutoring and had much better things he could be doing with his time, she sat up, cleared her throat and spoke before he had the chance to start.

“You may want to waste your own time, Malfoy, but I’d rather you didn't waste mine,” she said, in a cool, clear voice. She had a determined set to her chin that Draco was sure he recognised. “Listen, um…” Draco cleared his throat awkwardly, realising he didn't even know this girl’s name. “Astoria. Greengrass. My sister Daphne is in your year,” she replied, not taking her brown eyes off him. That was why he recognised her; she had brown hair and eyes while Daphne was blonde, but they had the same determined chin and bright, intelligent eyes.

“Right, Astoria. The thing is, I have quite a lot of important things to be getting on with and…” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Well, there’s plenty of things I’d rather be doing than tutoring some arrogant sixth year but here we are,” she replied, coolly. That was when Draco remembered, Astoria was only in her fourth year. He was being taught by a child. This was not only a spectacular waste of his time, it was also an insult. Astoria clearly noticed the mutinous look on his face but chose to ignore it, opening A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration and launching into an explanation of Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration.

While this was possibly the last place on Earth he wanted to be except for perhaps in Azkaban with his father, there was something about her voice that was compelling, and Draco was drawn in without even really noticing what was happening. He already knew everything that she was saying but it was quite nice to watch her telling him anyway. Her eyes shone with excitement as she spoke. It would almost be cute if it wasn't so unbearably nerdy. “So, what are you, anyway?” Draco interrupted, “some kind of transfiguration prodigy?”. To her credit, her composure was not ruffled by the sarcastic edge to his voice. She simply smiled and launched into an explanation about her Grandfather Hyperion who was apparently a transfiguration genius with hundreds of published articles and how she’d always been close to him and seemed to have inherited his gift.

She spoke with a passion that Draco found he envied. He didn't think he’d ever cared as much about anything as she did about transfiguration and her Grandfather. After speaking non-stop for about five minutes, she seemed to realise what she’d done and suddenly clammed up, blushing faintly pink. “Sorry, got carried away.” Draco smiled back at her, wishing he knew how to express how much he’d enjoyed hearing her speak so passionately without sounding like that bumbling fool, Longbottom.

They continued with their work, Astoria gently explaining things in her clear, calm manner. Draco had to admit that she would make a wonderful teacher, if he actually was in need of the help. Still, even if he should be working on the vanishing cabinet, he supposed there were worse places he could be, and by the end of an hour with Astoria he was actually quite enjoying himself. After they’d packed away their books and left the classroom, they stood facing each other, their first awkward moment, before saying a hurried goodbye and rushing off in opposite directions.

* * *

Draco managed to be only two minutes late for their next session together. Astoria still looked like she was going to tell him off but something in her expression softened when she saw him. He knew he looked pale and withdrawn but he must have looked awful to have stopped her in her tracks when she looked ready to deliver a full lecture. “Are you okay?” she asked, gently, teacher mode suddenly forgotten. “Just tired,” he replied, firmly, trying to make it clear that he didn't want any further questions. She frowned but then nodded. “Fine, just give me your essay and practice that leaf-conjuring charm we discussed last week. Give it a go non-verbally but it’s fine if you need to speak.”

Draco sat down and obliged, flicking his wand and conjuring leaves easily. Maybe now she would understand that he didn't need to be here, and he could leave and get back to more important things. Like fixing the vanishing cabinet and making sure his mother didn't get killed. His mind wondered as she read over his essay and he found his eyes drawn to her face. She looked deep in concentration, the tiniest frown furrowing her forehead. One strand of her hair kept falling down onto the parchment and he had to resist the urge to reach over and tuck it back behind her ear.

“I don’t understand you,” Astoria whispered suddenly, breaking the silence as she skimmed through his rewritten essay, a puzzled look on her face, “this is all correct, how are you failing?”. She looked up properly for the first time and her puzzled look became one of pure bewilderment. She stared at his hand as he flicked his wand lazily, conjuring leaf after leaf, each a different shape and colour.

“I did try to explain,” Draco drawled, allowing a smug smile to cross his face, “I don’t need a tutor. I'm not stupid, I just don’t have time.” Several different expressions crossed her face in quick succession. Draco watched her curiously, he couldn't help but be intrigued by her. He’d never met someone so expressive, he could read every little emotion that was passing through her mind. He smiled, unable to help himself. Her expression settled on hurt.

“Very funny, isn't it, Malfoy? You don’t have time? Well, neither do I and I'm stuck with you anyway. Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?” Her eyes shone with tears. What on earth was going on? She stood up very abruptly, picked up her bag and fled the classroom, leaving Draco alone and confused. He couldn't for the life of him work out why she had been so upset by what he’d said. He started to pack up all his books, feeling strangely guilty. When he’d arrived earlier that evening, he’d wanted nothing more than for their session to end early so that he could get back to the Room of Requirement but now he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the vanishing cabinet when he couldn't shake the image of her tear-filled eyes from his mind.

* * *

The next day, Draco tried to speak to Astoria at every chance he got. The little voice in the back of his head kept telling him to forget about her and concentrate on what was important. That the Dark Lord threatening his mother was a thousand times more important that a silly little girl with hurt feelings. That he didn't usually care about upsetting people, so why did he care now? All the same, he tried to approach her at breakfast, in the corridor, in the common room, but every time he tried, she would mysteriously disappear just before he got close. In Charms, Daphne wouldn't stop throwing her signature death glare his way and he knew that Astoria must have told her he was a horrible git.

This continued for a full week, Draco was starting to believe that she had an invisibility cloak or was incredibly good at disillusionment charms as well as at transfiguration. On the following Thursday he even turned up, on time, to their usual tutoring session and waited for half an hour before accepting that she wasn't going to turn up. He finally spotted her the next evening, as he headed to the Room of Requirement after his Friday lessons. He just saw the edge of her robes and her hair disappearing around the corner ahead of him. He looked back and forth between the corner she’d just turned and the turning that lead to the Room of Requirement. He had never felt so conflicted. He groaned in annoyance at himself but set off after Astoria; he’d be able to concentrate better if he apologised first anyway, he justified to himself. He caught up with her a couple of corridors later, calling her name out. She finally stopped and whipped round to face him, “What, Malfoy?”

“I wanted to apologise,” Draco said, slightly out of breath from the fast pace he’d had to take to catch up with her, “I wasn't trying to waste your time, I've just had a lot on my plate and school…doesn't really feel like a priority right now.” She looked surprised, whatever she’d expected, it clearly hadn't been that. Draco was surprised at himself, he hadn't really meant to say so much. Astoria looked down at her feet and took a deep breath and when she looked back up her expression had softened. Her eyes sparkled in a way that just shouted _I am kind, you can trust me_.

“It’s okay, I overreacted. I should have thought. It must be hard, your dad being in Azkaban.” Draco nodded, thinking _if only you knew…_ , and tried to remember the last time somebody had spoken to him with such genuine sympathy. Crabbe and Goyle weren't exactly the kind of friends that could act as emotional confidantes. He was sure that a particularly empathetic troll would be a better listener than either of them. “Anyway,” he continued, “if you’d still help me out, I’d appreciate that. It’s the untransfiguration part I've been struggling with. Heard your Granddad was kind of an expert in that.” He said this nonchalantly, as if he hadn't found back copies of Transfiguration Today in the library just to look for any mention he could find of Hyperion Greengrass.

“Sure,” she replied, with a knowing smile and a little nod. Draco was about to say goodbye and head back towards the Room of Requirement when Astoria’s expression changed. It was the first time he hadn't been able read her expression and for some reason that made him panic. She reached one hand out against the wall to steady herself and looked horribly like she was going to faint. “Astoria?” Draco said, reaching out a hand. Her other hand grabbed onto his wrist. “Hospital wing,” she said faintly, “please.”

Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and set off as fast as he could while supporting most of her weight. All thoughts of the vanishing cabinet had disappeared from his mind for the first time in weeks; all that mattered at that moment was getting her to Madam Pomfrey. By the time they reached the hospital wing corridor, Astoria could barely move. Draco managed to get his free arm under her legs and lift her up, running the rest of the length of the corridor and barging into the hospital wing, careful to make sure he didn't bump her into the door. Madam Pomfrey bustled straight over and got him to place her gently down onto the nearest bed, then shooed him away like a particularly irritating crup.

“Can’t I stay? She’s my…friend,” Draco asked. Madam Pomfrey eyed him suspiciously. “You can come back at visiting hours tomorrow and see if she will agree to see you.” She turned her back firmly on him and began assessing Astoria in a brisk, practised manner. Draco took that as a dismissal and backed away hesitantly. He didn't want to leave; he wanted to help. As the hospital wing door closed behind him, he realised there was one thing he could do to help Astoria. He took off at a run; he had to find Daphne.

* * *

Astoria was asleep when Draco slipped into the hospital wing the next morning. It wasn't strictly visiting hours yet, but he managed to dodge between the curtains around her bed and take a seat beside her. “Morning, Astoria,” he whispered. She looked so peaceful and Draco had to resist an urge to take hold of her hand. What had gotten into him lately? He should be working. The vanishing cabinet was still broken and his last attempt to kill his headmaster had gone disastrously. Why was he wasting his time on this girl?

“Draco?” Astoria muttered, shifting slightly in her sleep. Draco took her hand automatically. That was the first time she’d ever said his first name. “I'm here,” he whispered. She screwed up her face then her eyes fluttered open. “Are you okay? That was quite scary, last night.” She shifted her weight up the bed, propping herself against the pillows, a small smile on her face.

“Blood malediction,” she said simply, “Ancestor was cursed, it showed up in me. It comes and goes.” She shrugged, as if it was unimportant. He wondered how she could be so nonchalant about something so serious. “I'm used to it,” she said, as if she could read his mind, “and there’s nothing I can do to change it. I just want to make the most of the life I've got while I can.” Draco nodded, deep in thought. Suddenly, her emotional reaction to him saying he didn't have time made a lot more sense and he felt horribly insensitive. “You didn't know, it’s fine,” she continued, once again answering his thoughts as if he’d spoken them, “just got me on a sensitive day.”

Her eyes shone kindly and she looked so much better than she had the night before. The sight heartened Draco; he hadn't stopped worrying about her since he’d had to carry her into the hospital wing. He was a social pariah with the majority of the school, his father was in prison, his mother had warned that it may be dangerous for him to write to her too much in case The Dark Lord was watching, Snape was breathing down his neck like an oversized bat and Potter was making a nuisance of himself as usual. He hadn't known her very long, but he realised that the short time he’d spent with her had been the happiest he’d been in a very long time. And he had to admit that it was nice to talk to someone who was actually _alive_ , however kind Myrtle had been to him.

Draco stayed for an hour, talking and laughing with Astoria, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be keeping his voice down. Eventually Madam Pomfrey appeared to shoo him away, saying she’d “let this go on for long enough but Miss Greengrass needed her rest.” Draco allowed himself to be steered out of the hospital wing door, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a while. He headed off to the Room of Requirement with a spring in his step and a renewed sense of purpose.

* * *

After Astoria left the hospital wing, they fell back into the routine of their Thursday evening tutoring sessions. While Draco was already perfectly proficient, he no longer resented these sessions together. For one evening a week, he felt like himself. The rest of the time, he was withdrawn, he barely slept, and he spent every spare minute he could working on the vanishing cabinet. Crabbe and Goyle were getting mutinous about keeping watch for him, Potter had started hovering around him, and while he was keeping on top of his transfiguration, his other teachers were constantly making themselves tiresome by putting him in detention. The days and weeks all drew together into one tired, stressful blur except for Thursday evenings. On Thursdays, the world had more colour, everything seemed more alive, sometimes Draco even _smiled_. Thursdays were like his oasis in the desert.

Draco missed those sessions more than anything else over the Christmas break and when school started again in January he couldn't wait for their first Thursday together. His good mood was ruined on the Thursday morning he was first due to see Astoria again. McGonagall held him back after class to tell him she was pleased with his effort and he no longer required a tutor. Draco felt like he’d been punched. The one thing that made his life remotely enjoyable was being taken away from him. “Really, Mr. Malfoy, I thought you’d be a bit happier,” Professor McGonagall chided, “considering how displeased you were to be given a tutor in the first place.” Draco restrained himself from rolling his eyes, muttered his thanks and left the classroom feeling even worse than usual.

That evening, Draco couldn't face the Room of Requirement. He decided to head to the library instead, vaguely hoping that Astoria might have the same thought and turn up there instead. And anything was better than moping around in his dormitory feeling sorry for himself. To his delight, after he’d been there about twenty minutes, a textbook was placed on the table opposite him and Astoria settled down with a relieved smile. “Glad you had the same thought,” she whispered, “Thursday didn't feel right without our revision sessions.” Draco smiled back, noting her wording as revision rather than tutoring. They worked together in a companionable silence, occasionally answering the odd question for each other.

Thus began their new Thursday evening routine, meeting in the library, with no prior organisation. Each just knowing the other would be there. As the months drew on, Draco was sleeping even less, lost his appetite and got increasingly desperate as he made no progress on the vanishing cabinet. The idiot blood traitor Weasley managed to poison himself with the mead meant for Dumbledore, causing Snape to redouble his efforts to act as a thorn in Draco’s side. Thursdays remained his one respite, the colour in his otherwise grey and dreary world.

Astoria clearly noticed his declining well-being, he’d lost weight, his skin looked grey and the dark circles under his eyes got darker with each passing day. He would notice her glimpsing at him with a worried expression, but she never broached the subject and for that he was thankful. He knew that if she were to ask him, he would tell her everything, and then everything would be truly lost. She already knew more about him than anyone except for his mother. She’d taken more of an interest in him and his life than Crabbe or Goyle ever had. Even Pansy only showed an interest in him for his name and status, she’d never really cared about anything deeper than the surface.

Being truly seen by someone for the first time was both thrilling and terrifying. Draco was convinced that soon she would decide he was too messed up, too complicated for her. She had already expressed that she wouldn't stand for any of that “anti-muggle nonsense” in her presence and he felt sure that one day she’d find out something about him that would be one bridge too far and he’d lose her forever. Spending time with Astoria made him feel like a normal teenager, spending time together, working on homework, occasional shameless flirting. Every time he left her, the weight of the world would come crashing back down and he’d start counting down the seconds until the next Thursday.

* * *

When Draco woke in the hospital wing, his face stinging thanks to Potter’s attempt at heroics, the first face he saw was Astoria’s. She was sat in the chair beside his bed, fidgeting and gazing out of the window with a worried frown on her face. After peering at her for half-closed eyelids for a minute, Draco stirred and opened his eyes properly to draw her attention. “Role reversal,” he groaned, trying to laugh. It hurt his dry throat. She helped him to take a sip of water from the glass beside his bed and smiled down at him, looking relieved that he was awake.

“Gave me a bit of a scare,” she said quietly, “thought you’d stood me up for Thursday study night.” He shook his head, making him go dizzy. “Never,” he croaked. Astoria patted his hand fondly but then leaned forward, a frantic expression on her face. “Draco, please, tell me why this happened? Are you in trouble? Can I help?” Draco wished more than anything that he could tell her everything, get every single dirty secret and lie out in the open to somebody he trusted. Someone other than a ghost that haunted a girls’ bathroom. He couldn't do it. If she knew what was going on, he might put her in danger and he could not do that. He couldn't risk her safety. “Astoria, everything is fine,” he replied. It took an effort to lie to her but it was the lesser of two evils. She sat back in her chair looking disappointed and not at all convinced.

“Well,” she conceded, “get well soon, okay? Who will I revise tricky untransfiguration with otherwise?” She patted his hand once more, then got up to leave. Draco watched her go, wishing she could stay longer. After she’d gone, his mind wandered back to the Room of Requirement and his lack of progress. He sat, bolt upright, remembering what she’d said before she left. He’d tried as many charms as he could possibly think of, but what about transfiguration? Or possibly, untransfiguration? He began to climb out of bed but Madam Pomfrey appeared, flapping hysterically, and he lay back down before she tackled him. He made a mental note that the minute he got out of here, it was time to change tactic.

* * *

It worked. It finally worked. Months of work had finally paid off, he could get the death eaters into Hogwarts. He’d outwitted everyone, even Albus Dumbledore. Some “greatest wizard” he was, being outsmarted by a 17-year-old. Draco couldn't help it, he whooped and cheered, jumped up and down, punched the air, completely lost his composure in a completely un-Malfoy way. He’d had the hardest few months of his life and now he only had to kill that old fool and his family would be safe again at last.

As he finally calmed down and collapsed down onto the floor in a relieved heap, Astoria’s face popped into his mind, her eyes twinkling, the dimples appearing on her cheeks as she grinned at him. It felt like all the air had been knocked out of him as he realised, she was going to hate him for this. This was going to put him on what she considered the wrong side of the war once and for all, there would be no coming back.

Regardless, this was something he had to do, he had to get his family out of danger. If he failed now, he’d never see his mother again. Resolve strengthened, he climbed to his feet and set off to put the next stage of his plan into motion. He vowed to himself as he navigated his way through the castle that if he survived the inevitable war he was about to escalate, he would find Astoria Greengrass again one day. He would prove to her that he could me a good man, could be the kind of person she could love. If they could both just get through this war, he’d do everything in his power to spend the rest of his life making her happy. If she wasn't worth staying alive for; what was?

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've ever posted anything I've written anywhere! Thank you to [LittleRose13](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRose13) and [per_mare_ad_astra](http://archiveofourown.org/users/per_mare_ad_astra) for reading it and encouraging me to post it!


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